by Mark Robson
The guards lifted Claire over another of the wicked spikes, but she did not struggle. Sam looked away, unable to watch. Tears filled his eyes and he sobbed. All strength left him. He felt as if his body weight had just doubled. He couldn’t move. He gritted his teeth, tensed and clenched his eyelids tightly shut as he waited for his mother to cry out in pain. When after several seconds he had heard nothing, he made the mistake of opening his eyes and looking back at the screen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
‘NO!’ Niamh gasped, dropping to her knees on the lawn, her eyes filling with tears. ‘Mum! Sam?’
‘What’s the matter, Niamh? Are you all right?’
Niamh ignored Archie’s question. Her brother’s presence inside her mind was the strongest she had felt since returning to England. His mind was reeling with shock. Something terrible was happening. At first, she thought he must be hurt, but then she realised his only hurt was emotional. She would have felt an echo of physical pain. This was not about him at all. It was something to do with their mother. What was going on that could get Sam into this sort of mental state? Mum must be in serious trouble for him to be this worked up, she thought. A keen sense of horror swept through her and she felt herself tense up inside.
Sam was holding a gun! It was as if she could feel the weight of it in her hands. A gun! What was Sam doing with a gun? Worse, she could feel he was experiencing a burning desire to use it – to kill. The sensation shocked her to the core. Her brother wanted to kill. And she could feel that this was no passing curiosity, no random thought about what it would be like to kill. He was filled with a burning desire to aim the rifle he was carrying at someone and pull the trigger. How could this be? This was not the brother she knew.
A hand on her shoulder brought her partly back to the present.
‘Are you feeling ill? Shall I get Mother?’
‘No, Archie,’ she snapped. ‘I’ll be fine. Just give me a minute.’
But she was wrong. At that moment, an image entered her mind that would stay with her for the rest of her life. It was worse than her most horrible nightmare.
‘Please God, no!’ she gasped. ‘It can’t be. It can’t! Oh, Sam! Mum! No!’
Darkness took her.
* * *
Niamh coughed, suddenly choking as she fought to surface from the nightmare. Confused images twisted through her mind. Mum impaled on a giant spike. Monsters. Guns. Strange-looking flying machines. Panic.
An incredibly strong smell of ammonia flooded her nostrils, filling her sinuses with a burning sensation. She coughed again and struggled to pull away from the source.
‘It’s all right, Niamh. Relax,’ Aggie soothed. ‘You’re fine. You just fainted, that’s all. The smelling salts are to help bring you round. Archie says he came and found me as soon as you passed out. You’ve only been unconscious a minute or so. Two at the most.’
‘Please, take it away,’ she gagged. ‘Too much.’
‘OK, Niamh,’ Aggie crooned. ‘There you go. The lid’s back on now. Just let me know if you think you need another dose. There now. What on earth brought this on? Are you prone to this sort of thing? Matt has never mentioned anything about you suffering fainting spells.’
‘No, Aunt Aggie,’ Niamh replied, struggling up into a sitting position. ‘I don’t make a habit of this sort of thing.’
‘Archie says that just before you passed out you said something about Sam and your mother. . .’
The terrible image filled her mind’s eye again and Niamh felt the blood draining from her face. She couldn’t tell Aggie. She couldn’t! Given her aunt’s reaction to the possibility of a mental link with her brother during the interview the previous day, Aggie would never believe what she had seen anyway.
‘He did? That’s strange. I don’t remember anything,’ Niamh lied, closing her eyes as she pretended to concentrate. ‘It’s all a blank. I remember Archie was going to show me where we used to make dens when we were younger. We were walking across the lawn towards the trees and the next thing I knew my head was threatening to explode with the stench from those smelling salts.’
‘Hmm. Perhaps you’ve not been drinking enough. A lack of fluids can make you light-headed sometimes. You sit here and I’ll go and get you something. What would you like? Lemonade? Dinner is nearly ready. Some food will probably help as well.’
‘A glass of lemonade would be lovely, thanks.’
As Aggie marched away towards the house clutching her jar of smelling salts, Archie gave Niamh a calculating look.
‘You lied to her,’ he said, a note of outrage in his voice. He kept his voice low so there was no chance his mother would hear. ‘I watched you as you answered her question. You do remember what you said before you passed out, don’t you? You remember perfectly.’
Niamh hesitated a moment before replying. Even looking at Archie, all she could see was the terrible picture of her mother in agony. Churning emotions raged within her and Archie’s prying was making it worse. This was not something she wanted to share with him, but she got the feeling that he was going to worry at it like a dog with a toy unless she did something to distract him.
‘I don’t know what you mean, Archie,’ Niamh replied, trying her best to sound innocent. ‘Why would I lie to your mother?’
‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s not a good idea, you know. Mummy will find out the truth in the end. She always does.’
‘Well it’s a good thing there’s nothing for her to find out then, isn’t it? And Archie, I don’t want to sound mean, but aren’t you a little old to still be calling her Mummy?’ she added, neatly changing the subject. ‘If Sam was here, he’d be teasing you rotten about that, you know.’
It was a simple diversion, but it worked perfectly. Archie’s chin tilted up and he set his mouth in a firm line of defiance. He glanced over his shoulder to see if his mother was within earshot. She wasn’t. Agatha had gone into the house.
‘It’s what she likes to be called,’ he said, as if that made it perfectly fine.
‘Oh, well, that’s all right then,’ Niamh said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘I suppose it’s not my place to tell you to grow up anyway. So long as you’re OK with your mother insisting you play the little boy toff, it doesn’t bother me. What do your school friends think of it?’
Archie looked away as he answered. ‘My best friend Rupert does the same,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘He doesn’t have a problem with it either.’
Although he didn’t say it, Niamh got the distinct impression from his body language that while he had told the truth, there was a lot he wasn’t saying. If she was to guess, Archie would probably have been more accurate with his statement if he had exchanged ‘best friend’ with ‘only friend’.
Aunt Aggie reappeared from the house bearing a small tray with two large glasses of sparkling lemonade perched on it. As she approached, Niamh noted the ice cubes, slice of lemon and two straws in each. Perfectly presented, as ever, she thought.
‘There you go, Niamh darling. I’m sure you’ll feel better once you’ve rehydrated. I brought one for you as well, Archie. Now, are you sure you’re all right? If the drama’s over, I’ll get back to the dinner. Remember to bring the glasses in when you’re done, please. Dinner should be ready in about half an hour.’
‘Thanks for the drink, Aunt Aggie. I’ll be fine,’ Niamh assured her. She took a glass from the tray and forced herself to smile. She hoped it didn’t look as false as it felt. ‘We’ll come in and wash our hands in just a minute.’
Agatha nodded and turned to leave.
‘Oh, Aunt Aggie? Before you go, there was just one thing I wanted to ask. . .’ Niamh added.
‘Yes?’
Archie glared at her, almost imperceptibly shaking his head. Niamh’s smile broadened as it suddenly felt less false. He was probably expecting her to say something about him.
‘I was wondering – remember we talked about my visiting Dad? Is there any way I could go and visit him so
on?’ she asked. ‘I haven’t seen him since the police took him from our house in the Keys and I really want to make sure that he’s OK.’
Agatha looked down her nose at Niamh as if she had just suggested something disgusting.
‘You seriously want to visit the prison?’ she asked. ‘Are you sure? It will be full of awful types, you know.’
‘I don’t care what the prison’s like,’ she insisted. ‘Where Dad is won’t change who he is.’
‘No, of course not. It’s just. . .’
Niamh looked her in the eye, waiting for her to finish the sentence. She didn’t.
‘Well, we’ll see,’ Aggie said in a way that signalled the end of the conversation. She turned away and headed back to the house. Niamh watched her until she went in through the door. She sipped her lemonade.
‘Well, we’ll see,’ she repeated, mimicking her aunt. ‘So, Archie, when your mother says “We’ll see”, what does that normally mean?’
‘Generally, it means no,’ he said.
‘Thought so.’ She took another sip of her lemonade.
Archie gave her a long look through narrowed eyes. ‘You’re going to get into trouble again, aren’t you?’
‘What? What makes you think that?’
Archie shrugged. ‘Call it nerd’s intuition. So what are you going to do? Run away again?’
‘Nah! Don’t be ridiculous! What good would that do? I guess I’m going to be stuck here for the rest of the summer unless someone finds the boys.’
Archie’s eyes narrowed as he considered her response. ‘So what do you want to do before dinner?’
‘Actually, I think I’m just going to go up to my room and lie down until Aunt Aggie calls us. Is that OK?’
‘It’s fine. I’ll see you later.’
Niamh took her lemonade to her room and closed the door. She pulled out her laptop and her phone, and while the computer was warming up, she rang Beth.
‘Come on. Come on! Pick up, Beth . . . Hi! Beth? Thank goodness. Listen. Something bad has happened and I need to tal. . .’
* * *
The house was dark and silent as Niamh crept out on to the landing. With utmost care, she eased her bedroom door closed behind her, wincing as the latch clicked back into place. She paused a moment, holding her breath and listening intently to see if the noise had disturbed anyone. Nothing.
It was just after 4 a.m. She had timed her exit to be sure that everyone else would be fast asleep. Her purse held enough money to get to Milton Keynes by train, but not much more. There was certainly not enough for a cab to Banbury Station. She would have to walk. It would take over an hour and she would have a bit of a wait when she got there, but the weather was fine, and she didn’t mind walking. Her plan was to be on the train and away before Aggie or Archie noticed she was missing.
Dressed in jeans, trainers, a dark top and her leather jacket, she tiptoed down the stairs to the hallway feeling a bit like a burglar. As she reached the front door, she hesitated. Thinking of burglars made her wonder – was the alarm switched on? Niamh had noticed the box on the front of the house with its winking light, but had never thought to ask Aggie if it was activated in the evenings. There was only one way to find out.
Gritting her teeth and silently turning the key in the lock, Niamh’s body tensed as she gently cracked the door open. To her relief, no blaring siren split the night. She let out a long, low sigh of relief and edged out of the door, closing it silently behind her. Walking along to the edge of the steps, she leapt lightly over the flower bed and on to the lawn. The last thing she wanted to do was to crunch her way along the full length of the gravel driveway, but to her dismay, as she landed on the grass, a motion-triggered security light clicked on, bathing her in a harsh yellow light.
Niamh instinctively launched into a run, dashing across the lawn towards the deep shadows of the trees at the far side. So much for a stealthy exit, she thought as she hurdled over another flower bed and sprinted across the open ground.
Heart thudding hard against her ribcage, she slowed as she reached the safety of the shadows and looked round to see if she had aroused any attention. As far as she could see, no internal lights had been switched on in the house.
‘Phew!’ she sighed. ‘OK, Niamh – Milton Keynes, here we come.’
She turned towards where she knew the pedestrian gate through the outer hedge would be, but as she did so, a movement in her peripheral vision caused her to freeze.
‘No!’ she breathed. ‘It can’t be.’
A shadowy figure was creeping round the side of the house and looked to be about to strike out across the open ground towards the same area of shadow she had run to. Was it a burglar? The figure seemed to be wearing dark clothes and she could make out the unmistakable bulge of a small rucksack.
The front security lights chose that moment to time out, plunging the front of the house back into darkness and Niamh found she could see virtually nothing, her night vision having been ruined by the bright lights.
Whoever was out there, Niamh had no desire to meet them here in the dark. Doing her best to move swiftly and silently, she crept through the dark towards the gate. Seconds later, she reached and unlatched it, easing it open. As it swung, the hinges moaned a horrible, unearthly groan of metal on metal and the sound triggered an instant response from behind her. A sudden and unmistakable rhythmic sound of running feet sent Niamh into a panic. Without thinking, she turned left and sprinted away along the lane as fast as she could. After about two dozen paces, she realised she should have turned right if she was going to head towards Banbury and her blind sprint stuttered to a momentary stop as she hesitated, wondering if there was still time to double back without encountering the stranger. A second groan from the gate decided it. She had to keep going.
‘Damn it!’ she cursed as she pumped her arms to help gain momentum.
There was very little light, but she could just make out enough to see where she was going. Her breathing was too loud for her to be able to tell if the stranger was following her and she didn’t dare try to look back for fear of tripping.
‘Niamh! Niamh, stop! Wait!’
The voice was Archie’s. For a split second, Niamh considered continuing, but she knew it was no good. She had been caught. Archie would go to Aggie for sure and she would be found and brought back before she got anywhere near Banbury Station. She slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether. A moment later, Archie caught up with her.
‘What do you think you’re doing out here, Archie?’ she asked. ‘And how did you catch up with me so fast?’
‘I was expecting you to try something like this, so I rigged your door with a simple contact-breaker that set off an alarm in my room,’ he said, sounding very pleased with himself. ‘There are some advantages to being a rich nerdy type, you know. I’ve got all sorts of cool gadgets to play with. I went to sleep in my clothes, so when the alarm triggered, I just nipped down the back stairs and out of the back door.’
‘Great. Very clever, I’m sure. Now, why don’t you go back to your room and play with your gadgets? I’m sure you don’t want to get in trouble with your mummy and I’d appreciate it if you forgot you ever saw me.’
‘You’re planning to go and see your dad, aren’t you?’ he replied.
Niamh sighed and shrugged her shoulders. ‘Yes, Archie,’ she admitted. ‘And nothing you say is going to stop me. Now, go home.’
‘No way! I’m going to come with you. It’ll be a wizard adventure! Besides, you need me.’
‘Really, Archie? And how did you figure that out?’
‘Look, Niamh,’ he said confidently. ‘I might be needy, nerdy and all the other labels you want to add, but I’m also resource-rich. You booked a visit for 2.30 p.m. this afternoon, right?’
‘Yes. How’d you know?’ Niamh asked, astonished. ‘Have you bugged my phone as well?’
‘No, but it wasn’t hard to find out,’ he said. ‘I also know that you booked in my mother as well, because you
can’t get into the prison without an adult to accompany you. How did you plan to get in without her? You won’t be able to blag it, you know?’
‘How do you know what I can and can’t do?’
‘Trust me, Niamh. They’ll never let you in to see your dad without an adult.’
‘So you’re saying I should just give up? No way!’
‘No, I didn’t say that at all,’ he continued, looking around nervously. ‘But I took the liberty of altering your booking slightly. Come back to the house and I’ll explain. It’s a bit creepy out here.’
‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me exactly what you’ve done, Archie,’ she snapped, hands on hips and bristling with anger. ‘You’ve got no idea how important this is. I’ve got to see Dad. I have to!’ The horrible image of her mother on the spike entered her mind again and she blinked back tears. A lump formed in her throat.
‘Listen,’ he told her. ‘There’s no need to get angry. If we do this my way, we’ll get a lift into Banbury with Mu— my mother, we’ll have an adult to accompany us and mother will never even realise what she helped us to do.’
Niamh stared at him in the dark. She couldn’t really see him very well, even now that her eyes were beginning to adjust. He sounded remarkably sure of himself, and so far he’d demonstrated a lot of sense.
‘OK, Archie,’ she said slowly. ‘You’ve got my attention. What’s your idea?’
‘So you’ll let me come along? Wiz—’
‘Stop!’
‘What?’
‘If you want to come with me, then you’re going to have to promise that nothing we do will be wizard, spiffing, simply splendid or any other sort of toffee-nosed archaic nonsense,’ Niamh insisted.
‘I’ll try my best, I promise.’